This is an automatically translated description

Vibe without a choice. Pitma and love. Our will to perish. Our choice to kill. Fight and die. A common loss. Losses that we can no longer feel or feel. Cordons of the earth, which you recognise in Poland.

Jarina Chornoguz's poetry is a kind of a leaf from the front, a leaf from the front line, where you will not find a description of the battlefield or a list of withdrawn territories. It is about the pain of losing your dead brothers and sisters, about being at war here and now, about being informed and accepting your own choice to fight, about how the world will look like after all this pain that is tearing through the middle. Sheets about how the defence of your presence in this world looks like.

Tsi text Yarina wrote for the last one and a half years of rotation on the front, a significant part of which fell on the full-scale war. "In this book," Yarina writes, "my memory of Skadovski and the sea coast of Kherson, Sevierodonetsk and Mariupol, the heights above Novoaidar, the road Bakhmut-Lisichansk and the villages on the other side of the Siverskiy Dintsy, the river that became the Ukrainian Stix. And all of them feel to me like another motherland, because they have been changed by our crocs inside and outside. Some of them are strong and defensive, most of them should be removed.